


SoundCheck

by Continental



Category: Alkaline Trio (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, M/M, PWP, Porn Without Plot, but whatever floats your boat, intended to be around crimson era, mentions of Coke products, possibly incorrect usage of the word salacious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-02-01 00:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12693378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Continental/pseuds/Continental
Summary: "It's just you and me. It'll be our dirty little secret."





	SoundCheck

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a friend (and my own guilty pleasure). Don't use spit as lube, kids.

"Matt, why don't you just... go home?"

Matt looked up at Derek with bloodshot eyes and a grimace, fingers pressed into each temple in a weak attempt to will away a nasty migraine. He'd spent more than half of the time they'd been in the studio lying on the couch with his jacket thrown over his head to block out the ceiling lights, and Derek was nearly certain that if Matt cut his arm he would bleed ibuprofen. It was obvious that he was getting sick, but Matt Skiba hated getting sick, and he hated admitting he was getting sick even more. 

"I'm fine," Matt said, eyes closed and voice barely above a whisper. "It's just a little headache. No big deal."

"If you try to do anymore guitar tracking tonight you're gonna start bleeding from your ears," Derek said, keeping his voice soft to Matt's delicate eardrums. "And no offense, but you sound like you have an entire bag of cotton balls shoved up your nose." He sat down on the couch next to Matt and gathered their notebooks and papers together, pushing them to the side of the coffee table in a stack. He turned back to Matt. "Just go home, take some ibuprofen-"

"-if I ever see ibuprofen again I'm going to puke-"

"-take some aspirin then. Just go home and get some sleep, Matt. You've been up for nearly 24 hours. Not to be dramatic, but I think you may be dying."

Matt threw him an amused look, but he had to admit Derek was right. He'd been up putting finishing touches on some new songs, and he'd hardly gotten any rest. He was running on caffeine and sheer will-power at this point.

Matt sighed.

"Okay. Fine. I'll head home."

"Good. The last thing we need is you getting sick-"

"Yeah yeah, whatever mom," Matt grumbled, gathering his coat. 

Dan walked in from the back room. "Finally got him to go home?" He asked, amused, and raised his eyebrows at the drummer on the couch.

"Yeah, I'm gonna go. Are you two staying?" 

"I am. I wanted to get some of the drum tracking for the demos done tonight," Derek said, propping his feet on the coffee table as he skimmed through one of Matt's notebooks.

"Yeah, me too. I'm gonna go ahead and get some vocals out of the way while I'm here."

"Alright. Don't wear yourselves out." Matt raised his eyebrows and pointed accusingly at the pair, but it looked half-assed and tired instead of playfully threatening. He turned to the door with a lazy wave. "G'night guys."

"G'night."

"'Night Matt."

The door shut behind him, and the two men left in the studio listened to the rumble of his car as he drove away.

"Well," Derek started, tossing the notebook aside and rising to his feet. "Let's get to work."

 

The clock hanging on the studio wall hit 11:46 p.m. just as Dan was finishing his vocals for the night. The last note came to a close, and Dan gave a final exhale, sliding the headphones off of his ears and placing them on the stand with a tired smile.

Outside the sound booth, Derek messed around with the button panel before pressing what he believed to be the switch that stopped recording. This studio was still fairly new to him, and he'd never been very good with those kinds of things anyway.

Derek got up and slipped into the sound booth, arms raised triumphantly. "That's a wrap. Bravo, Mr. Andriano. You've outdone yourself."

Dan took a sip of his water and smirked, shaking his head. "Oh really?" He sat his water bottle on the floor and leaned against the far wall as Derek sauntered over to him with that vaguely menacing, yet familiar aura of his. 

"Absolutely. You and Matt have outdone yourselves." Derek's calm and cool composure slipped for a moment, like he'd suddenly changed his mind about something, and he dropped his teasing tone and replaced it with a kind smile. "Really. These new songs of yours are really great, Danny."

Derek always liked to play these games. Get Dan worked up, act like he was planning something— like something was going to happen— and then just let it go. But Dan wasn't about to let him drop it that fast. Derek wanted to play a game, and they were going to play a game. 

"Great enough for a reward, right?" 

His lips formed a sly grin as he watched Derek's expression falter. An odd, familiar look flickered across his face, and he grinned too, the edges of those unnervingly sharp incisors just barely visible past his lips.

"Maybe." The words came out like an afterthought. He was close enough now that Dan could touch him, and he reached out with one arm and pulled Derek in by his waist. He pressed his lips right below Derek's jawline, and he could feel the growing smirk on the drummer's face as he laughed.

"Here? Are you being serious?" 

"Why not?"

"What if Matt shows up again? The door's not locked..." He didn't seem too concerned as he tilted his head to the side, letting Dan continue to place light kisses along his neck.

"He won't. I bet he's in bed out cold." He lifted his head to meet Derek's eyes. "It's just you and me. It'll be our dirty little secret."

Derek scoffed. "Well that was stupid."

Dan shrugged. "Maybe." 

After a brief moment of hesitation, Derek closed the space between them, their lips meeting in a slow, but rough kiss. There were few things that could turn Dan on as much as kissing Derek could; his lips were always soft and his taste was always sweet, even on days when his lips were chapped, or night's when his taste was tainted with the bitterness of alcohol. Tonight he tasted like spearmint gum and cherry Coke, and his lips felt almost like heaven.

One of Dan's hands found the back of Derek's head, gripping his hair and tugging downward. Derek pulled away, smirking and out of breath, and ghosted his fingers over the tent in Dan's pants.

"All worked up over a little kiss?"

Dan's eyes fluttered down to Derek's own jeans.

"'Could say the same to you."

His breath quickened as Derek lowered himself to his knees, dragging delicate hands down his torso until they found the clasp of his pants. He took his sweet time undoing his belt, and made sure to unzip his fly as slowly as possible, deliberately causing friction between Dan's skin and the fabric of his jeans. After what seemed like days, Derek finally got his pants low enough to expose his erection. Just when he suspected Derek would stop teasing him, the drummer raised his head to plant a soft kiss on Dan's stomach, and another on his hip, and another on the top of his thigh. Dan pushed his hips forward.

"Derek, come on-" He interrupted himself with a soft gasp as Derek ran his tongue along the skin just above the shaft, then licked upward back to Dan's hip, where he bit into the skin with those sharp little incisors. Dan's fist tightened in Derek's hair, pulling the dark locks taught and drawing a hiss from between his teeth. There was a masochistic little grin on his face that Dan just couldn't get enough of. 

Derek's eyes flickered up to meet Dan's, and with that same little smirk on his face he licked a strip up the underside of Dan's cock, drawing out the act as long as he could, and then took the tip in his mouth. Dan's head fell back against the wall as he moaned. If there was anything Derek R. Grant was better at than drumming, it was cock-sucking; he knew exactly what to do to drive Dan wild. His hand was around the base of his cock, stroking what he wasn't working with his mouth, his tongue caressing the most sensitive places, using the subtlest hint of teeth because he knew it drove Dan insane. And the way he looked, dark chocolate hair tussled and tangled, day-old eyeliner smudged under his pretty blue eyes, which stared up at him through thick lashes and insinuated so many filthy things on their own... it was enough to leave Dan throbbing with arousal. He closed his eyes and focused on the sensations of Derek's mouth on him. He was afraid risking a glance at him meant this would all be over too soon.

Derek pulled off of him, licking away the string of saliva connecting his lips to the head of Dan's cock. He was touching himself through his jeans as he continued to stroke Dan's dick, twisting his wrist and rubbing the pad of his thumb down the slit. 

"Danny, I want you to fuck me."

His voice was barely above a whisper, laced with a sort of soft and syrupy tone that enticed Dan to the point that he opened his eyes. The sight of Derek there, looking up at him with tired blue eyes filled with need, on his knees for him, head resting against his hip and cock in his hand... it was enough to make his heart pound and his blood rush through his veins at unimaginable speeds. 

Dan grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him up. Before Derek could stand up completely, Dan's lips were on his in a feverish kiss, tasting himself on the other's tongue. He flipped their positions, pressing Derek's back against the wall and rubbing him through his jeans. Derek stifled a moan, making a move to unbutton his pants, but Dan pushed his hands away, continuing to palm him through the fabric, that sly smirk back on his face.

"I thought you didn't want to fuck in the studio?"

Derek made an exasperated sound. "Danny, I swear-"

Dan cut him off with another rough kiss. He slipped his hands under Derek's t-shirt to run his fingers along the warm skin there, loving the way Derek shivered when his cold digits touched his spine. Derek was getting impatient, rolling his hips forward, desperate for some kind of friction. 

Dan unfastened the button of Derek's pants with a tug. He slipped his hands down the back of Derek's jeans, grabbing his ass, running his hands over the softness of his thighs, and then around to the front to stroke him through his boxers, delighting in all the wonderful noises that the drummer was making. Dan pushed his pants and underwear to the floor, and before Derek could get his right calf out of the leg of his skinny jeans, Dan had hooked his fingers in the bend of Derek's knee and hoisted said leg to rest around his hip, leaving Derek's other leg to keep him balanced.

Dan spit into his hand, making sure his fingers were thoroughly slick with saliva before moving to slip a digit inside Derek. He worked it in and out, then added another when he felt the drummer could handle it. 

"Hurry up," Derek mumbled. He was stroking himself, pushing down onto Dan's fingers eagerly. Dan ignored him and pressed his lips against his clavicle, teasing the flesh with his teeth.

He felt nails on his back as Derek whined. "Danny, come on."

Dan removed his fingers and lined himself up with Derek's entrance. He eased himself inside, gasping at the warm tightness of Derek around him.

Derek moaned, his heel digging into the small of Dan's back. His supporting leg wobbled, and he steadied himself with his hands on Dan's shoulders. They both stayed like that for a moment, breathing each other's air until, tediously, Dan began to move. He started a slow rhythm, basking in the feeling of Derek around him, and taking in all of his quiet moans. Dan couldn't take his eyes off of the other man. Derek's eyelids fluttered with pleasure, allowing flickering glimpses of his bright blue irises. His face was flushed a soft pink, his lips parted and scarlet from passion. Even his midnight hair, matted to his forehead with sweat, added to his beauty.

Dan knew when he'd hit Derek's prostate by the lewd moan that he attempted to muffle. Dan picked up the pace, the sting of Derek's nails in his shoulders urging him on. He leaned close to brush his lips across the cuff of Derek's ear.

"Come on, I want to hear you."

"Danny," Derek gasped, his head falling back against the wall. His hands fisted into the back of Dan's shirt, attempting to pull him impossibly closer. "Danny, holy _fuck_."

Dan gripped Derek's cock and began stroking him closer to orgasm. It doesn't take long before Derek is cumming with a salacious moan that would've made the most seasoned pornstar blush. Dan pulled out and, with a few strokes, he was cumming as well, spilling onto his hand and Derek's thighs. 

Derek stood, trembling, with his head resting on Dan's shoulder. His leg was still tightly wound around Dan's hip, jeans and underwear still dangling from his ankle. After a moment, he dropped his leg and slumped against the wall, pulling Dan in for one last slow, tired kiss. 

They parted, two sleepy smiles looking back at each other. Derek spoke first, an embarrassed shade of red dusting his cheeks and ears.

"I can't believe we just did that."

Dan tried his best to hold in his laugh, but failed. Derek joined in, and the two of them laughed at themselves before deciding they needed to tidy up the sound booth before Matt got any ideas.

They untangled their bodies and had just made themselves decent when Derek made a disbelieving noise from across the room.

"You got cum on my shirt! This was my favorite..."

 

Matt called his band mates the next morning to say that he was feeling a lot better, and he was ready to finish tracking the demos. Dan stopped to pick Derek up from his apartment, and together they drove to the studio, sharing knowing smiles— and maybe a few chaste kisses— along the way.

When they entered the studio, they noticed Matt sitting in the chair by the sound booth panel. He had been watching the door as if he had been waiting for them, and now he was giving them a rather smug grin.

Dan raised his eyebrow at him as he threw his coat on the couch. "Everything alright, Matt?"

"Oh, yeah, totally," Matt said, nodding and looking between them. Dan and Derek shared a worried glance.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Derek asked.

Matt couldn't take it anymore. He burst into a fit of laughter, doubling over and clutching his stomach. 

"Matt," Dan moved to stand beside Derek, who was looking just as concerned as he felt. "Matt, what's up with you?"

"Nothing! Nothing," Matt wiped a tear from his eye. "But we're gonna have to re-record those vocals you did last night."

Dan was confused.

"Why?"

"Because two guys I know forgot to stop recording before they got handsy in the sound booth."

The color drained from Dan and Derek's faces.

"No-"

"Oh _no_."

Matt was cackling again. "How did you two manage that? I have never, in my life, witnessed something so-"

"Oh my God, Dan, we made a sex tape!"

"Is it really a sex tape if you can't see anything?"

"Matt, erase it!"

"No! I can edit it, we can put your moaning in the background of one of the songs-"

"I swear to God, I will kill you with my bare hands-"

Dan plopped down on the couch and rested his head in his hands, watching the other two wrestle over the panel. 

So much for their dirty little secret.


End file.
